A Study in Magic: Year 1
by TimeLord98
Summary: A year after Lord Voldemort has been defeated, Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes, and John Watson find themselves enrolled in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. (Main ship: Sherlolly)
1. Chapter 1: A Not So Ordinary Girl

Molly Hooper had always lived a rather ordinary life. She didn't have particularly striking features, nor was she very outspoken. Her mother was a primary school teacher that spent most of her time grading papers, or reading romance novels. Her father was a surgeon and never seemed to be home. Molly practically lived alone, with very few acquaintances and little to no social interaction at all. Hence, the eleven year-old was a bit more than shocked when a strange woman who called herself Professor McGonagall showed up at the door.

"Is Molly in trouble?" asked her mother, very concerned that something had happened at school.

"No no no, of course not," replied McGonagall soothingly, "I merely want to talk to you and her about an opportunity she has to attend a very prestigious school."

Molly's mother blinked.

"Oh! That's wonderful! I'll just go fetch her for you," she said, turning and running up the stairs to Molly's little room. The little girl was lying on her bed, clutching her stuffed bear to her chest as she pored over her favourite novel, _the Hobbit_.

"Molly?" her mother called, peering into the room.

"Not now Mother! I've just gotten to the part where Bilbo meets Smaug!"

"Molly, it's very important. A very nice lady has come to talk to you about attending a very nice school."

Molly looked up at her mother, big brown eyes glittering with curiosity. Why was someone here to talk to her about school? She didn't do particularly amazing in school, except in science and English. She wasn't in the band or the choir or anything, so why was she suddenly so special? Molly slid her bookmark back into her beloved book and gently placed it on her nightstand. She followed her mother back downstairs and was a bit thrown off by McGonagall's intimidating stare.

"Hello Molly, I'm Professor McGonagall. I've come to discuss a school that you've been invited to attend," the professor said, smiling.

"What, m-me?"

"Yes Molly, now is there somewhere we can talk? Preferably sitting down."

Molly's mother nodded and led Professor McGonagall toward the living room. She gestured towards the armchair and McGonagall thanked her before sitting down. Molly and her mother followed suit, choosing to sit on the sofa.

"So what's this school you were talking about?" Molly asked, cocking her head slightly to one side.

"You've been invited to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," McGonagall replied, handing Molly a wax-sealed letter.

"Wait, did you say _witchcraft_ and _wizardry_?" asked Molly's mother sceptically.

"Yes I did. Was I not clear?" replied McGonagall.

"No, no. You were crystal clear."

Molly opened the letter carefully and read over its contents, her eyes growing wider as they progressed down the page.

"What?!" she exclaimed disbelievingly, "B-but I can't be _magic_! I-I'm just Molly! The girl who doesn't do well in maths and reads all day! I'm not special at all!"

"Molly, has anything ever happened to you, when you were angry or frightened? Something you can't explain?" asked McGonagall softly.

"W-well one time, I was really upset because I failed a test in school, so I was crying on my bed, when suddenly my teddy bear just came to life and gave me a hug."

"That was the magic in you reacting to your emotions. You are indeed a witch Molly. And if you'd like, you can come to Hogwarts and learn to control and utilize your powers."

Molly was speechless. It all felt like a dream. She was going to go to a school of _magic_, far away from her boring, lonely life. She read the letter again and frowned.

"I-I'd love to go more than anything, but I don't know where to get any of the stuff on this packing list."

"Hang on," interjected her mother, narrowing her eyes at McGonagall, "How do I know you aren't just pulling one over on me to drain my accounts of their money?"

McGonagall rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand. She gave it a flick and the books on the table rose and levitated in mid-air. Molly's mouth dropped open.

"Do you believe me now?" asked McGonagall, raising an eyebrow. Molly's mother nodded, still in shock, "All right Molly. I will give your mother directions to the Leaky Cauldron and I will arrange for Hagrid to pick you up there and take you shopping for your school supplies. Be there no later than nine o'clock, Saturday morning."

McGonagall pulled a quill out from her robe and scribbled down an address on a piece of parchment before handing it to Mrs Hooper.

"It was nice meeting you Miss Hooper. I look forward to seeing you in September."

"It was nice meeting you too," Molly replied, shaking her hand, "Goodbye."

"Goodbye. Remember, no later than nine o'clock. Do not worry about money, the school has given you an allowance of 200 galleons. Hagrid will have the key to your vault in Gringott's."

And with that, she was gone. Molly sat on the sofa, stunned. She read through her letter again, just to make sure that what happened wasn't some bizarre dream. A smile spread across her face as she did so. It was real. She was really a witch and she was going to a school that taught such people and it was happening to _her_. Plain little Molly. She couldn't wait.


	2. Chapter 2: A Strange Encounter

"Mother! We must get there on time!" shouted Molly, hopping on one foot as she struggled to pull her other shoe on. Mrs Hooper grabbed her keys off the counter and rushed out to the car, Molly trailing close behind.

"What time is it?" Mrs Hooper asked anxiously. Molly glanced at her watch.

"It's a quarter to nine," replied the eleven-year-old.

"Thank the stars. We'll be there with five minutes to spare."

Molly sat back in the seat and sighed happily. She had a good feeling about today and she couldn't wait to get a taste of this new world that she would soon be a part of. Houses and shops whizzed by outside the window, just blurs of brown and grey, until the car came to a halt outside a dinky little inn with a sign that read _The Leaky Cauldron_. Mrs Hooper glanced at the building warily, taking Molly's hand as she led her inside.

As they did, Molly's eyes grew wide. There was magic being used everywhere. She could have sworn she saw a spoon stirring a cup of tea all on its own. However, she didn't have much time to marvel at the strange sights because she was suddenly greeted by a huge, grinning bear of a man.

"Hello! Yeh must be Molly and her mother! Pleased t'meet yeh! M'name's Hagrid!" he said in a happy, booming voice. Molly's mother bristled a little bit at his large stature and loud introduction.

"Right. I have to get to my class so I'm going to leave her here with you." said Mrs Hooper coolly, "Make sure she stays out of trouble."

"No problem Mrs Hooper. Molly 'ere is safe with me."

Molly's mother nodded curtly and walked out the door, leaving a very nervous Molly with Hagrid.

"Right then!" said Hagrid, clapping his large hands, "Follow me, I'll take yeh t' Diagon Alley."

He headed toward to the back of the inn and Molly nearly had to run to keep up with his large gait. They arrived in a small courtyard enclosed by a brick wall with nothing but a dustbin in it.

"Now Molly," Hagrid said, taking out his umbrella, "Watch carefully."

He tapped a brick—three up from the dustbin and two across—and the wall folded back to reveal a bustling alley filled with all sorts of wizards. Molly stood there in awe for a moment before following Hagrid into Diagon Alley.

"Time t'get yer allowance, Molly. Yeh can't do anythin' without a pocket full o' galleons now can yeh?" Hagrid said, smiling warmly at the young girl. Molly grinned back and followed him to the great white bank at the end of the alley.

Hagrid held the door open for Molly and the sight that greeted her was overwhelming. There were two rows of high desks, at each was a goblin in a suit, writing various things down furiously. If Molly was honest with herself, they were a bit scary. Especially the one Hagrid was leading her to.

Hagrid cleared his throat, attempting to gain the goblin's attention. It worked and the goblin slowly leaned over his desk to peer down at them.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice gravelly.

"Miss Hooper would like t'make a withdrawal," Hagrid said.

"And does Miss Hooper have her key?"

"Oh yeah. I got it right 'ere."

Hagrid rummaged through his pockets for a moment before pulling out an ornate key and handing it to the goblin.

"Very well," said the goblin. He called out and another goblin came waddling up to the desk. He handed the key to him and Hagrid and Molly followed the newcomer to the vaults.

Before long, Molly had a pocket full of galleons and was grinning from ear to ear, skipping down the alley next to Hagrid.

"So where do we go next?" she asked him.

"Now we're gonna get yeh a wand," Hagrid replied, eyes twinkling merrily. Molly grinned even wider.

The inside of the wandmaker's shop was warm and rather dusty. It had an air of mystery and Molly was loving every inch of it. An old man with crazy hair and an intelligent aura about him appeared from the back of the shop.

"Ah, Hagrid! So nice to see you after all these years!" he said, smiling warmly.

"Good to see you too Mr Ollivander," Hagrid replied happily, and the elderly man then turned to the child standing behind him.

"I see you've brought a new student for her first wand. Wonderful."

"This is Molly Hooper. She's a real joy. I think yeh'll like findin' her a wand."

The wandmaker nodded, smiling, and disappeared once again in the back. He returned moments later with an armful of boxes and set them down on his desk. His nimble fingers plucked a light brown wand with a knobby end out of a box and handed it to Molly.

"Go on, give it a wave," he said, and Molly did so. A spark shot out of the end and ricocheted across the room before extinguishing itself. She wanted to apologize, but Ollivander whisked it away and replaced it with a new one before Molly could say anything. This one was reddish and had an intricate handle, and when she waved it, boxes flew off the shelves in every which way. This process went on for a couple minutes until a curious look crossed the wiry old man' face. He handed her a beautiful nut brown wand with a handle that had a fascinating geometric design on it. It felt warm and buzzed slightly in her hand, and she waved it like it was the most natural thing in the world. When she did, a gorgeous cascade of pink sparkles and iridescent petals came shooting out the tip. Molly grinned and watched in amazement as they disappeared before touching the floor. Ollivander beamed at her with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"Acacia with unicorn core. Eleven and a half inches, quite flexible. This is the perfect wand for you Miss Hooper. Interestingly enough, I sold this wand's only brother to another young wizard just a bit earlier this morning. I wonder…" he trailed off, a warm, knowing smile gracing his face.

Molly looked at him a bit warily, but nevertheless thanked him and handed him eight galleons. She smiled as she left the shop, the bell on the door tinkling quietly.

Before long, Molly had everything she needed except for potion ingredients. Hagrid led her into the Apothecary, and Molly suddenly felt very at home among all the scientific instruments and various strange ingredients. She meandered past each shelf, mesmerised by each strange object and ingredient. Eye of newt, valerian sprigs, flobberworm mucus, dried billywig stings, all of these things should have repulsed her. And yet, they didn't. She was enraptured by it all and couldn't wait to work with them.

Suddenly she found herself face to face with a murtlap tentacle. She blinked twice before realising it was being held in her face by another person. The boy holding it had a head full of unruly, dark brown curls and eyes so blue, they pierced her very soul with ice.

"Why are you holding that murtlap tentacle in my face?" Molly asked calmly, startling the boy.

"Wh-Why aren't you screaming and running away?" he countered, his gaze sharp and his tone demanding. Molly raised an eyebrow.

"Because it's just a murtlap tentacle. If anything, it'd make me resistant to jinxes and curses. Not exactly dangerous," she replied.

The boy brought the tentacle away from Molly's face, his eyes analysing every inch of her.

"How do you know that? You're a Muggle-born and you've never been to Diagon Alley before," he asked, looking at her confused. Molly was taken aback.

"Uh, I read about it in my potions book. It's one of the first things mentioned. What's a Muggle-born?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"A Muggle-born is someone who has non-magic parents, like you," the boy replied, rolling his eyes as if it should have been obvious to her.

"Oh. How did you know about my parents?"

"I didn't know, I saw. Your attire is most definitely not something a witch with magic parents would be wearing and you seem very nervous, but very excited, showing me you've never been here before. You're clutching your cauldron like it's full of twenty thousand galleons and not to mention, you walked in with Hagrid, who often helps out Muggle-borns get set for the school year. Elementary, really."

Molly stared at the boy, wide-eyed. She had never heard anything more brilliant in her entire life, and she had just been told she was a witch two days ago!

"That…was extraordinary!" she said excitedly. The boy looked at her incredulously.

"Y-you think so?" he asked tentatively.

"Of course! That was brilliant! You're really clever!" Molly replied, grinning. A blush creeped onto the boy's cheeks.

"Th-thanks," he said quietly. Molly smiled warmly at him.

"Brother dear, stop harassing that poor girl and get over here!" shouted a young man about eighteen years old. The boy grinned brightly at Molly.

"Laters!" he said, then followed his brother out of the Apothecary.

Molly stood there for a moment, replaying their conversation in her head and realising that she never had learned the boy's name. She wondered briefly if she would ever get to see him again.

"Molly! We're done 'ere! Time t'get yeh home," called Hagrid. Molly grinned and followed him back to _The Leaky Cauldron_.

It wasn't long before Molly was sitting on her bed once again, her new school supplies spread out before her. She loved each and every item and she ghosted her hands over each one, in awe that such things could exist. She smiled and picked up one of her new books: _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllidia Spore. Carefully, she opened it to the first page and began to read. A huge grin spread across her face as she absorbed all the fantastic information that was at her fingertips. Perhaps, the rest of the summer wouldn't be so lonely after all.


	3. Chapter 3: The Hogwarts Express

Molly spent the summer reading and re-reading all of her textbooks. She devoured each and every new piece of information, immersing herself in the glorious world of magic. By the time September 1st arrived, Molly had memorized twenty spells from the grade one book, half of the fantastic creatures listed in Newt Scamander's amazing guide, and each and every one of the magical herbs and fungi in her beloved book of potion ingredients.

When September first rolled around, Molly woke at an ungodly hour of the morning to prepare herself for what was surely going to be the best day of her life. She packed her trunk at least ten times before she was satisfied, each of her things carefully organised and colour-coded. A sudden wave of excitement washed over her and she jumped around, silently squealing so she wouldn't wake her parents. She was going to Hogwarts! Today! And the prospect of possibly seeing the strange boy again just added to her bubbling joy. She glanced at the clock. Seven thirty. She grabbed her trunk and lugged it as quietly as she could downstairs. A grin was plastered on her face as she waited for her father to wake up and take her to Kings Cross Station. She pulled out her train ticket for probably the millionth time that summer and studied its now extremely familiar lines and patterns._ London to Hogwarts_ it read. The intricate gold design on the border glittered in the light of the kitchen and the gold lettering reading _Platform 9¾ _shone like the stars. Molly had to physically hold herself back from screaming out in joy.

In a few minutes, Molly's father came downstairs, already ready for work. He grabbed his coat and motioned for Molly to follow him to the car. She followed him silently and put her trunk in the boot of his Mazda. The car ride to the station was silent and solemn, and still no words were exchanged when Molly was dropped off at the station. She held up her ticket once again, still not entirely sure how she was going to get there. Nine and three quarters? Was there even such a platform? Countless worries and terrible scenarios coursed through her head. Molly was about to break into tears when suddenly she overheard someone say 'muggle'. She looked around for the source of the wizarding word and her eyes fell on a middle-aged woman with three little boys with bright red hair.

"Come on Bill! We've got to get to the platform. You don't want to miss the train!"

Molly followed them to the wall in-between platforms nine and ten. One of the boys ran at the wall and to Molly's surprise, he passed straight through. Molly swallowed and pushed her trolley over to the lady.

"Um…excuse me?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes dear?" the lady asked sweetly.

"How do I…uh…" Molly pointed at the wall.

"How do you get through the barrier?" the lady supplied, smiling warmly. Molly nodded, "Don't fret dear. It's Charlie's first time as well. All you have to do is run at the wall and don't stop. You'll go right through."

Molly took a deep breath, and abandoning all common sense, she sprinted at the barrier, closing her eyes and hoping that she wouldn't die.

She didn't.

Instead, she found herself careening into someone. The boy had only just enough time to register what was happening before the two children were a jumbled mess of limbs on the floor.

"I-I'm so sorry!" Molly stammered, scrambling to her feet and helping the boy up, "The cart was going so fast and you were just there all of a sudden and…and…"

The boy put a finger on Molly's lips, his ice blue eyes piercing her soft brown ones, and shushed her.

"It's all right. Don't speak. You'll only embarrass yourself further. I'm unharmed. You're unharmed. It's fine," he said calmly.

"Hey, you're the really clever boy I met in the Apothecary," Molly said, a smile spreading across her face.

"And you're the girl who isn't afraid of slimy things," the boy replied, returning her grin with a small smile, "You know, I never did catch your name."

"Molly Hooper."

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Pleasure."

"Likewise."

The train whistled and the two children hurried to board. They walked a little ways down the length of the train before finding a compartment that wasn't full. However, there was a sandy-haired boy sitting by the window. Molly peeped her head in.

"Hey, do you mind if we join you?" The boy grinned at her.

"Not at all."

Sherlock put his and Molly's trunks in the storage space above them and proceeded to lay down across one side of the compartment, his hands steepled under his chin. Molly sat on the opposite side and struck up a conversation with the sandy-haired boy.

"Hi, I'm Molly."

"John Watson. Who's Dark-and-Brooding over there?"

"The name's Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock interjected, glaring at John before closing his eyes once more.

John was about to make a quip about Sherlock's attitude, but he was interrupted by a knock at their compartment door.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" asked the trolley lady.

Molly's eyes widened at the sight of all the strange treats. She pulled a galleon out of her pocket and bought a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans

"Hey Sherlock, what are these?" Molly asked, holding up a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, "I picked them cos they looked interesting, but I don't actually know what they are." Sherlock glanced over and smirked.

"Those are assorted jelly beans with every flavour imaginable. And I mean that literally," he explained, plucking a bean put of the box and popping it into his mouth after examining it carefully, "For example, this one is spaghetti."

"You've got to be careful though," John added, "Some of them are downright nasty. The worst one I ever had was an earwax flavoured bean." He shuddered in disgust.

"Go on, try one Molly," Sherlock said, a spark of amusement in his eyes. Molly looked at him suspiciously, and tentatively reached into the box, taking out a white bean. It looked innocent enough so she tried it. Almost instantaneously, she spat it back out.

"Bluh! I swear that one tasted exactly how a dirty diaper smells!"

Sherlock and John were convulsing with laughter. Molly felt rather insulted, but the sight of the boys laughing was so wonderful and contagious that she ended up laughing as well.

"Oh, Molly! I haven't laughed so hard in _ages_!" Sherlock said, wiping stray tears from his eyes as the laughter died down.

"God, that was hysterical!" John said, clutching his stomach.

"I'm glad I was source of entertainment for you two," said Molly sarcastically, but secretly she really was enjoying herself immensely.

"So while we're on the topic of bad beans, what was your worst Sherlock?" John asked, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. Sherlock pondered for a moment before speaking.

"Probably spinach," he said finally. John did a double take.

"That it? That's your worst?!" he asked incredulously, "You've never even got a bogey one before?"

"No, why would I let my judgement slip enough for me to not recognise such an obvious bean?" Sherlock said, genuinely confused.

"Oh so you're saying that you're so clever that you can tell if a Bertie Bott's bean will taste nasty just by looking at it?" John asked, sceptically.

"I am."

"Care to bet on it?"

"Why the hell not?"

"Three beans, you have to correctly distinguish each flavour using nothing but your eyes."

"Molly will be the one to choose and determine the true flavour of each bean since she's unbiased."

"Loser has to eat a soap flavoured bean."

"Good by me."

Molly had suddenly found herself in the middle of an intense contest, not entirely sure how she had ended up there in the first place. She thought about objecting, but she had been curious about the extent of Sherlock's mental prowess, so what the hell. Might as well go along with it. Molly reached into the box and pulled out three beans. One golden yellow, one brown, and one reddish-orange. She placed them down dramatically one by one, so Sherlock could see them clearly from where he sat.

"Now Sherlock," said John in his best announcer's voice, "What are the flavours of the beans?"

"Child's play. Honey, Toast, and Pizza," Sherlock replied, a smug look on his face.

"Go on Molly, see if he's right."

Molly picked up the beans and put them in her mouth one by one.

"Honey, Toast, and Pizza. He's right," she said, a grin spreading across her face.

"Damn, you're good, mate," John said, shaking his head in defeat, "That was brilliant."

Sherlock puffed up a little at his words. He wasn't used to being praised by other people.

"You think so?" he asked tentatively.

"Absolutely," John replied, grinning, "And as per the rules, I have to eat a soap bean."

He stuck out his hand and Sherlock fished in the box for one. John grimaced as he popped the bean in his mouth, earning huge smiles from Molly and Sherlock. The trio fell into amiable conversation, and Molly felt a sudden sense of belonging that she never had before. She looked at her two companions and smiled, knowing that she had found good friends.

"Oh Look! It's gotten dark!" John suddenly exclaimed, pointing out the window.

"Nice to know you have eyes, John," Sherlock said lazily, not bothering to look.

John scowled at the curly-haired boy, who was lying across the seat with his eyes closed.

"We should probably go get our robes on," John remarked, ignoring Sherlock's quip, "We'll be there soon."

Sherlock nodded in agreement and the trio fished their robes out of their trunks and pulled them on over their clothes.

A voice suddenly echoed across the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Molly suddenly felt incredibly nervous and started to play with her hair in an attempt to dispel the anxiety. Sherlock and John seemed to notice her change in behaviour and they both shot her a wild grin before grabbing her hands and pulling her into the growing throng of students in the corridor.

The train let out a hiss of steam as it slowed down and stopped. People pushed and shoved their way out the door onto a dark platform. Molly shivered slightly in the brisk air, and a lamp appeared over the heads of the students.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

A big hairy face beamed above the children's heads.

"Hagrid! Hello!" Molly called out, waving a hand in the air.

"Molly! Good t'see yeh! Yeh're gonna have a great year," he said grinning at her before turning back to the crowd, "C'mon, follow me! All firs' years this way! Mind yer step!"

They followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path, trying their best not to slip and fall. It was rather dark, and nobody said much.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in jus' a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "Jus' round this bend here."

A loud "Ooooooh!" chorused through the group.

The path had opened up all of a sudden onto the edge of a magnificent black lake. Sitting majestically atop a high mountain on the other side was a vast castle, its many windows glittering against the night sky.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a multitude of little boats floating calmly on the water by the shore. Sherlock, Molly, and John were followed into their boat by a tall girl with red hair pulled back into a ponytail. Molly was about to inquire who she was, but John answered her question before it left her mouth.

"This is my sister Harry, by the way. She's a fourth year."

Molly smiled at her and Sherlock nodded curtly.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, "Right then. FORWARD!"

The little boats moved all at once, gliding swiftly through the glistening lake. No one made a sound, as everyone was too busy staring at the beautiful castle that was drawing ever nearer.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled as the first of the boats reached the cliff face. They all ducked and the boats carried them through a curtain of ivy covering an opening in the cliff. The boats meandered through a dark tunnel, seemingly under the castle, before docking quietly at a small underground harbour where the children clambered out onto the pebbly bank. They followed Hagrid's bobbing lamp through a passageway in the rock, opening up onto wet grass right at the foot of the castle.

"Everyone here? Right then."

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked thrice on the magnificent castle door.

The door opened almost immediately.

A tall, witch in dark green robes stood there gazing sternly at the group.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid, a smile on his face.

"Thank you Hagrid, I will take them from here."

She led the children through an entry hall that was larger than anything Molly had ever seen. It was lit with glowing torches, the ceiling was too far up to see, and a stunning marble staircase led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the hall seemingly towards a large door to the right. However, she showed the first years into a small, empty chamber instead, crowding in and standing closer to each other than they would have liked.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall, "The start–of-term banquet will begin shortly, but first you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony, as your house will become like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitories, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has a noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are here, your successes will earn your house points, while any wrong-doings will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup, which is a great honour. I hope each of you will be a great asset to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as possible before we begin. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber and Molly glanced at Sherlock nervously.

"How exactly do they sort us?" she asked him.

"They will place the Sorting Hat on your head and it will analyse your personality and potential. When it has finished, it will decide where you belong," he explained, "For example, my father and older brother were placed in Slytherin. I hope it doesn't put me there out of fondness for tradition."

Sherlock had a look of disdain on his face as the thought crossed his mind.

"So Slytherin is bad?" Molly asked, confused.

"Not necessarily," John replying this time, "Slytherin just gets a bad rap cos of its tendency to produce Dark wizards. Not all of them are bad though. Merlin was a Slytherin."

"Oh okay."

"You've nothing to worry about, Molly," Sherlock suddenly said, "There's no way you'll be put in Slytherin. You're too kind-hearted and you're a Muggle-born. Slytherin almost never takes students with non-magic parents."

"Yeah, some rubbish about 'blood purity' or something," John added.

Molly furrowed her brow. She wasn't too sure about this Sorting Ceremony, but she figured that if John and Sherlock weren't nervous, she shouldn't be either. The smile returned to her face and she found herself excited once again for the new life ahead of her. Suddenly, the door opened and McGonagall's voice cut through the hushed whispers of the first years.

"Form a line," she said sharply, "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."

The students hastily formed some semblance of a queue, and followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall.

Molly gaped. She had never seen a place so strange and captivating as this. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside and there were hundreds of thousands of candles floating in the air above four long tables where the rest of the students were sitting, which were laid with golden plates and cutlery. Another table was at the top of the hall, where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led them up here so that they were standing in a line where everyone could see them. Molly watched curiously as McGonagall placed a stool in front of the first years. On top of which, she put an old and battered, pointed wizard's hat. _So that must be the Sorting Hat._ Molly thought, intrigued. She wondered what house she would be put in, and if any of her friends would be there with her. She was incredibly surprised, however, when a rip near the brim of the hat opened like a mouth and began to sing.

_"Many, many, years ago_

_When I was crisp and new_

_Four great wizards, and good friends_

_Created this grand school_

_Each of them, ideals in mind_

_Decided who'd they'd teach_

_And placed each student in a house_

_Where greatness they would reach_

_Each house was created precisely_

_With much thought and care_

_So each of you can be your best_

_Learning, growing, there_

_Perhaps the place that you belong_

_Is that of Godric Gryffindor_

_Where bravery and honour _

_Are values that you stand for_

_Or maybe Helga Hufflepuff_

_Has the house where you belong_

_Loyalty and honest work_

_Is what makes you stand strong_

_Maybe with Rowena Ravenclaw_

_Is where your heart truly lies_

_If what you treasure is your mind_

_And you strive to be more wise_

_Yet, your place could still reside_

_In Salazar Slytherin's nest_

_If you will use any means_

_To make sure you're the best_

_So try me on, I do not bite_

_Discover where you belong_

_Since I can see inside your head_

_There's no chance that I'll be wrong."_

The entire hall burst into applause at the hat finished its song. Molly, John, and Sherlock were grinning from ear to ear. McGonagall then stepped forward, raising a hand to silence the students.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said, "Adler, Irene!"

A slim girl with short, dark hair stepped forward, put on the hat, and sat on the stool. Only a few seconds later the hat had reached a verdict.

"SLYTHERIN!" it shouted, and the girl ran over to the cheering table.

The rest of the A's and even the B-G's seemed to go all too fast. A knot formed in Molly's chest as McGonagall reached the H's.

"Holmes, Sherlock!" came the clear voice.

The curly-haired boy walked confidently to the stool and placed the hat firmly on his head.

_Ah, another of the prestigious Holmes. And you've got even more fire than those who came before you. You're a tricky one._ The hat whispered in his mind. Sherlock just rolled his eyes and figured he would give the hat a taste of what he could really do.

_Tricky? Please. Gryffindors are meant to be chivalrous and you know perfectly well that I have no use for _manners_ or _tradition_. If you try to put me in Slytherin like you did my father and brother, I will burn you to a crisp and dump your ashes into the lake. You know perfectly well that I don't belong there. Hufflepuff values hard work and kindness, neither of which I am interested in. I care only about my mind and what I can do with it. Everything else is transport. The only place where I wouldn't stick out like a noble gas in the alkali metal family is Ravenclaw. _

The hat fell silent for a moment before shouting to the rest of the hall, "RAVENCLAW!"

Sherlock smirked and walked over to join the rest of the Ravenclaws.

"Hooper, Molly!"

Molly cautiously walked over to the stool and tentatively placed the hat on her head. It promptly slipped over her eyes.

_Ah_. A clear voice spoke inside her head._ You have quite the intelligent mind. You would do well in Ravenclaw. Yet, you are so very, very loyal and not a spark of ill intention is anywhere to be found in your heart. There is only one place that you would excel to your greatest potential._

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted and Molly grinned as she walked over to the table where everyone was smiling and cheering. She took a seat next to a friendly-looking girl with dark brown hair and bright green eyes.

The Sorting Ceremony continued.

"Moran, Sebastian!"

This rather stoic boy sat a rather long time on the stool. Molly wondered what was taking the hat so long. Sherlock hadn't even been up there as long as this kid had.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat finally decided.

"Moriarty, James!"

The hat barely touched the boy's head before shouting:

"SLYTHERIN!"

Molly stopped listening after "Morstan, Mary" became a Ravenclaw, but her attention was grabbed once again when McGonagall called:

"Watson, John!"

Molly watched, wondering where the hat was going to put him. It took quite a while and Molly was growing more anxious by the second. Finally, the hat reached a verdict.

"GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted and John looked relieved as he stepped off the stool and joined the rest of the Gryffindors. John had been the last of the first years and thus the Sorting Ceremony ended. The headmaster stood up and put his hands on the podium.

"Who's that?" Molly whispered to the girl sitting next to her.

"That's Dumbledore. He's brilliant and a bit eccentric," the girl whispered back.

"Welcome all to a new year at Hogwarts!" Dumbledore said cheerily after silencing the hall, "Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Loofa! Bongo! Palindrome! Thank you!"

He sat back down and everyone clapped and cheered. Molly was bewildered, but she decided that she rather liked Dumbledore. Suddenly, the table before her filled with all sorts of delicious-looking food. She stared at it open-mouthed, and the girl sitting next to her laughed at her shocked expression.

"I'm guessing you're a Muggle-born," she said kindly, "Don't worry, the food's all real. Care for some toast triangles?"

Molly nodded and grabbed a couple buttered toast triangles, as well as a good helping of chicken and other various foods.

"My name's Asphodel Edwards. But you can just call me Del," the girl said, "What's yours?"

"Molly."

"Nice to meet you, Molly!" Del said grinning.

"Likewise, Del."

The two girls talked and ate, quickly becoming friends. Suddenly, a silvery head popped through the middle of the table, earning a couple screams.

"Hello! Oh, look at all these adorable new faces!" said the figure, smiling, "I'm the Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff house ghost. It's an absolute joy to meet you all!"

He floated off, joining the other ghosts that had arrived in the hall. Molly was grinning broadly.

"That's brilliant! Ghosts are real!" she said excitedly.

"Yeah. Watch out for Peeves though. He's a poltergeist and he _hates_ first years," Del said, "My brother, Ash, says that he likes to drop things on students."

Molly looked around at all the ghosts and her eyes fell on the Ravenclaw table. She saw Sherlock talking to a girl with shoulder length blonde hair, who seemed to be rather amused with what Sherlock was saying. 'Good for him,' Molly thought happily, 'He's got someone in his house who'll put up with his eccentricities.'

Suddenly, Molly heard something clatter across the hall. She whipped her head over to the source of the noise, which happened to be the Gryffindor table. A chubby boy sitting next to Harry and John had dropped his plate, and a few Slytherins were laughing at him. Molly smiled a little as she watched John snap at them and help the boy clean up the mess.

"I like that Watson boy," Del said, nodding her head in approval at John's noble actions, "He's a good kid."

"He really is," agreed Molly.

At last, the food disappeared and Dumbledore got to his feet again. Silence fell over the hall.

"Ahem—just a few more words now that we're all fed and happy. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. I have also been asked by the caretaker, Mr Filch, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And now, bedtime. Off you pop!"

The Hufflepuffs followed Ash Edwards—one of the house prefects and Del's older brother—to the basement. He stopped when they reached the end of a corridor with a large stack of barrels.

"First-years, to get into the common room, tap the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff.' The barrel will then open," Ash said, tapping the indicated barrel, "like so."

Molly followed Del into the common room and was amazed at the interior. It was round and earthy, and the windows were enchanted to be perpetually sunny. All the furniture was super cushy and the floor was covered in a wonderfully soft carpet. The entire place felt warm and welcoming, and for the first time in her life, Molly felt like she was where she belonged.


End file.
